Footwork
by Polly Little
Summary: "You can't be telling me you don't believe in superheroes! Dude, I'm serious! There's something off about that Braginski guy." Natalia usually ignores the less than mature Sixth Formers, but this would intrigue anyone. With a serial killer on the loose, it's a race against time to prove her older brother innocent. Superhero AU set in the UK
1. Chapter 1

Footwork

 **Superhero AU**

One - Step of a dancer

The wind blows low over the city below, rattling the bars on windows, and stirring up waves of leaves that rise and spin, spin and fall in a never ending dance across the pavement. It moans as it goes, an eerie howl begging for release.

You empathise with it more than you'd expect, and briefly wonder if it would be less painful to take a long walk along the edge, and just… forget to turn the corner.

A light tread behind you interrupts your thoughts, and you spin around, horrified. He can't have got here so quickly, you should have won an extra five minutes by losing him in the back alleys.

But where is this mysterious enemy? No matter where you look, all you can see are the shadows cast by the chimney pots in the moon's relentless glare.

Maybe you can risk it. You turn to run —

— and freeze, a deer caught in the headlights of those piercing eyes.

"Help! Somebody, anybody, help me!" It's your last hope, but a futile one.

"Leaving so soon? I thought we could have a little… fun." He drags the last word out like a miser with their last penny, and you know that whatever he has planned will be the kind of fun that traumatises small children, the kind of fun with hamsters in microwaves and cyanide in the almond cake.

"Why don't we play a little game?" The innocence in his voice makes him all the more terrifying. You'd expect it to come from the child asking for less homework, or the boy giving up his seat on public transport, not the serial killer chasing you across the smog stained backdrop of the city sky.

You take a step backwards, and almost fall off of the roof. It's a long way down, but would it be easier than facing the inhuman monster in front of you?

He strikes so suddenly you don't see it coming. You try to keep standing, to run, but cave under the weight of the blows. The pain is unimaginable, you should have taken the fall when you had the chance. Distantly, you can hear someone screaming, and silently beg for them to stop. It's hard enough to cope as it is without having to block out some wuss who's stubbed their toe.

Belatedly, you realise the screamer is you. Maybe not such a wuss after all.

The pounding stops. His disappointed face stares down at you, seemingly far away.

"I'd hoped we'd have a little more time…"

Was he always this blurry? You try to keep him in focus, but it's all so much effort. Your eyes begin to close.

The last thing you hear are his retreating footsteps, strong but light, like the step of a dancer.

 **A/n: That came out much darker than planned. Any clues on who the killer is yet?**

 **This story needs a Beta. If you're willing, please let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

Two - Slipping on ice skates

If you asked anyone at the rink to describe Natalia Arlovskaya, they'd tell you of an outgoing, confident young woman, who never missed even the hardest of steps, and was always willing to explain to others what they were doing wrong.

At St. Peter's High, however, they'd paint a very different picture. According to them, Natalia was dangerous. Her icy beauty was wasted on someone who'd break your arm as soon as look at you, and one would do well to leave her alone.

Natalia knew which description she preferred.

Even so, she still spent more time at school than on the ice, and had grown use to being left well alone. Today had been no different, and she was already planning which dance she would practice with Toris as she skirted around a pair of arguing older students.

"You can't be telling me you don't believe in superheroes!"

She snorted. Sixth formers were so mature. She bent down to grab her coat from her locker, ignoring them. They clearly weren't worth her time.

"Dude, I'm serious! There's something off about that Braginski guy."

Or maybe they were.

She stood up, slamming the metal door loudly to get their attention.

"Braginski? _Ivan_ Braginski?" It's a stupid question, and she knows it (there is only one Braginski at St. Peter's) but she had to ask it, on the off chance that she was wrong.

The shorter of the two blonds rolls his eyes. Not that she can judge, seeing as he's slightly taller than her, but it makes more sense than referring to the pair as Eyebrows and Glasses. "Could you have been any louder Alfred? The whole world doesn't need to know your conspiracy theories."

The taller of the two - Alfred, she corrects herself - doesn't seem to hear. "Yeah, that's right. You know him?"

"Know him?" She almost laughs. She knows him better than she knows herself, better than anyone.

"Natalia Arlovskaya." She says abruptly. "Ivan's younger sister."

"Sister? But-" Alfred's cut off by an elbow to the gut from his companion.

"Arthur Kirkland, pleased to meet you. Apologies for my idiot brother." They shake hands, and he's surprisingly cold. "Siblings, eh?"

"You mentioned Ivan?"

If Arthur's shocked, he doesn't show it, and smoothly redirects the conversation. "That would be Alfred. He's always going on about one conspiracy theory or another; once he -"

Tries to, anyway.

"Alfred!" She spins on her heel, and has him backed against the lockers in a second. Intimately close, she intimidates him without even trying. The height difference should be comical - he's almost a head taller than her - but Alfred can't help but gulp.

"Are you the reason he doesn't come home at night?" She hisses, venom in her voice, and fire in her eyes.

Despite this, Alfred laughs as if he's discovered the secret of time travel. "See, Arthur? So where is he?"

Arthur heaves a long suffering sigh. "It's a little far-fetched to suggest he's a superhero merely because he's a little late home. Why do you even care?" A little late? It's more than a little! Natalia gets home at half past seven, and he's usually only back after eleven.

Again, Alfred ignores him. "So you don't know where he goes?"

Natalia shakes her head.

"But you have tried to find out?"

She huffs. "Of course I've tried to find out!"

"Do you think he could be a superhero?"

No response. What kind of a question is that?

Arthur looks rather annoyed. "What would be the point in being a superhero around here? Nothing ever happens."

At that moment, a scream echoes along the corridor.

 **A/n: Congratulations Arthur, you jinxed it.**


	3. Chapter 3

Three – Salchow

"What would be the point in being a superhero around here? Nothing ever happens."

At that moment, a scream echoes along the corridor.

As one, they turn to face the direction the scream had come from.

Arthur is the first to speak, albeit a little awkwardly. "Should we…?" He trails off, but it's clear what he means.

"Act first, think later!" Alfred shrugs, and runs toward the noise. It's a poor philosophy to follow, but it works as well as any other (in this case, at least). Natalia follows after, one hand wrapped in the straps of her lunch bag as a precaution.

Outside Mr Vargas' office, a distraught student is pretending not to sob into the shoulder of a boy in Natalia's class, who doesn't push him off like he normally would. A dark haired girl is clutching him around the waist, also sobbing, and a pair of identical students are standing next to them, looking shellshocked.

"If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask me." Mr Vargas looks exhausted, one step away from crying himself. He retreats back into his office, the door closing with a dull thud.

"Kiku? Are you alright?" Alfred pushes past her to the most responsive there. Ah, that was his name. Kiku, of course.

He laughs bitterly. "Hai, I am fine. Which is more than I can say for –" he chokes up, and Nataliya immediately feels guilty for intruding on such an obviously private moment.

Rubbing at his still red eyes, the eldest is interrupted by his 'phone ringing. "Nǐ hǎo, mā."

After a brief exchange in Mandarin he hangs up, somewhat hampered by . "We'd best get going, aru. Zài jiàn." With that, he walks off, his siblings trailing numbly behind.

Alfred doesn't get the hint, and runs after them. "Kiku, wait! What happened?"

"Gomenasai, Alfred." The lack of honorific, as rude as Kiku gets, is glaringly obvious.

"I –" He coughs, trying to clear his throat (and perhaps his eyes), and starts again. "I cannot say, but –"

"Kiku! Yao's lost the car key!"

He sighs, and presses something into Alfred's hand. "Sayōnara. I would… I would like this back tomorrow."

He runs after his siblings, shouting in another language.

Alfred looks down. In his hand is a letter, slightly crumpled at one edge where Kiku had been gripping it so tightly.

 _Dear Kiku Honda,_

 _I am sorry to inform you of the death of your foster brother, Jia Long Wang…_

 **A/n: I'm sorry for disappearing, that was unfair of me. A Salchow is a move in figure skating that's made up of one full rotation then a leap. They're they're quite impressive, there are at least a couple of videos on YouTube if anyone's interested.**


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